Mating Pair
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: "Your breeding habits have aged me terribly..."
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R

(Crack, as usual... enjoy!)

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><p>"Jazz, unless someone is dying, this had better be worth my time" Prowl snapped with a soft growl as his mate trotted through his office door with a cheerful grin, smugly flopping into the guest chair and resting his pedes on the desktop that the SIC was currently writing a report on.<p>

"Ratchet said the exact same thing when Wheeljack bothered him in the medbay not two breems ago." Jazz said with a pout, "Are you channelling the Hatchet today, bondmate of mine?"

"Jazz, I'm not in the mood for mind games today," the black and white Praxian grumbled finally looking up from his pile of work to wearily eye his mate that was lounging without a care in the world in his guest chair. "And don't you have work to do?"

"I'm finished," Jazz chirped happily subspacing a cube of the Twin's Homebrewed High Grade and taking a liberal sip. "And I'm home free for the rest of the day. Plus I saw something juicy on my patrol"

"Jazz, if this is about the nudist pool you found last week I really don't want to know the full possibilities of human skinny dipping," Prowl elaborated before his giggling mate could continue, methodically swapping his full report for another one ready for his signature.

"No, but now that you mention it, I could have a look for you..." the black and white saboteur snickered at Prowl's warning glare.

"Don't you dare, just tell me what you found and leave me to get on with my work." The doorwinged mech interrupted sighing as he found another Sideswipe prank related data-pad had wormed its way into his workload.

"Well, I saw Sunny and a resident sparkling of ours locking lip plates when I drove past for afternoon patrol." Jazz said thumping the chair legs back to the ground to bounce giddily in his seat.

As expected, white and black doorwings flared into a sharp 'v' and icy blue optics flared to an almost blinding intensity, "Sunstreaker's doing what to our sparkling?"

"Don't worry, it surprised the slag out of Sunny too when Bluestreak jumped him," Jazz smirked as Prowl relaxed back into his seat.

"Ah, so it was Bluestreak that jumped Sunstreaker? Good," the SIC of the Autobot faction said with a smug air as Jazz stared at him sceptically.

"Prowler…" Jazz frowned as the Praxian went back to his reports, doorwings fluttering suspiciously. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"I don't know what you mean Jazz. Bluestreak is nearly a fully grown mech now. I believe you should… what do the humans say… cut the umbilical cord." Prowl said his usual monotone inflected with a perky note as he scribbled his signature at the end of the report he had scanned through.

The door to Prowl's office suddenly hissed open admitting a pleased looking Bluestreak. "All went according to plan father." the grey gunner chirped as Jazz flicked his gaze between his mate and son.

"Am I missing something?" the saboteur asked intently as his sparkling fluttered his doorwings cheerfully at him, nearly dancing from pede to pede.

"I merely told our sparkling how you kept my attention back on Cybertron during our courting days, jumping me seemed to play a dominant part of your courting method," Prowl said his lip plates curving slyly into a smug smile. "Sunstreaker, as proficient he is at battle, is rather dense in the romantic interest category. Bluestreak came to me to resolve Sunstreaker's obliviousness."

"If I wasn't so impressed I'd be insulted." Jazz pouted as Bluestreak giggled and his mate indulged himself in a chuckle. "But really Blue, going to your Sire for romantic advice?"

"He seemed like the best choice." the sometimes innocent sniper shrugged as Jazz snorted his distaste. "And father _was_ the one to, uh… I believe the term is 'knock you up'?"

At this Prowl actually laughed, startling a passing Huffer, who was immediately on the comm. to Ratchet, screaming that Prowl needed a processor check, because their 'stick-in-the-mud SIC was actually _laughing_!'

"Very funny offspring of mine," Jazz grumbled as his son giggled "Prowl, apparently, wasn't in a carrying mood at the time of your conception."

"It's true Bluestreak," Prowl nodded casually finishing his last data-pad and slotting it into his outbox tray. "Jazz got broody first; ergo he got the privilege of carrying you."

"You know Prowler, I'm getting broody right now." the Porsche snickered "Blue _is_ leaving the figurative nest after all."

"Jazz. No." Prowl said dryly as Bluestreak looked mortified at the thought. "Optimus nearly blew a gasket when we announced you were carrying Bluestreak, what do you think he'd say if he found out I'd sparked you up again?"

"I'd say I'm shipping you both off to the Decepticon base. Let Megatron deal with a mating pair of bondmates and let's see if he can still fight a war." Optimus rumbled stomping into the room with a set of data-pads under his arm, his SIC and TIC jumping to attention as their first sparked snickered behind him. "Your breeding habits aged me terribly; I'm only nine million years old. I feel like Alpha Trion does after a spa day! And that is still slagging old!"

"My carrying period wasn't that bad OP" Jazz whined as Prowl thought up a good excuse to leave the room before the saboteur and the Autobot Commander could re-enter the age old argument.

"Jazz, you ripped off Ironhide's arm when he, and I quote, 'Looked at you funny'" the Matrix barer snorted picking up Prowl's pile of outbox data-pads. "No. you two have spread your coding around quite enough."

With that the esteemed Leader of the Autobots left the room.

"But I've only had one sparkling!" Jazz cried as Prowl shook his helm, ignored his mate and started to read through a spare data-book, the pair's sparkling snickering as he fled the room to find his new lover. "I wanted four at least!"


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers!

Please R&R!

(Inspiration kicked me for the wrong fic, but I'm getting there... This is the only other update this fic will get. Enjoy! Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed or faved!)

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><p>Prowl was hiding under a Rec-Room table, carefully trying to do his work.<p>

Optimus was glued to the roof by his pedes glowering down at them for being cowards.

Ironhide was cowering in the corner nursing the recently reattached arm which had been torn off by a fellow Autobot in a fit of unpredicted and sudden rage.

Ratchet was standing at the entrance to the room, brandishing a wrench wearily at the calm TIC sitting drinking his special medical energon as he sidestepped towards the energon dispenser.

All in all, it was a usual start to the cycle in the Iacon Autobot base ever since Jazz now had, in Ratchet's flattering terms, an energon goodie in the oven thanks to their resident SIC who was being careful to not make optic contact with anyone.

"Prowl, dearest?" Jazz asked with a soft purr as he finished his energon, the SIC poking his helm out from under the table to look up at his mate from where he was hiding across the room.

"Yes, Jazz?" the Praxian asked almost nervously abandoning his work under the shelter of the table to focus his attention on his bondmate.

"Would you prefer a mech or a femme?" his mate asked caressing his chest, rubbing the area over his spark tenderly, Ratchet giving Prowl a warning look to distract the Head of Special Operations while he got their Prime down from the roof.

"I'm sure the sparkling will be lovely no matter the gender" Prowl said professionally slithering out of his hiding place and carefully getting in the way of his mate's view of the dangling Optimus who was silently waving his servos around in the air frantically, trying to dissuade Ratchet from disabling his pain receptors and cutting off his pedes again.

"I'd like a femme" Jazz said dreamily reaching out to suddenly hug the startled Prowl who was silently begging Primus to speed up the growth of the sparklet Jazz was currently nurturing so he wouldn't have to deal with these random bursts of mischievousness, anger and affection respectively, his poor battle computer was running on its last un-fried logic chip as it was.

"That's nice Jazzy" Prowl soothed coaxing his partner up onto his pedes and steering him towards the door as a flailing Optimus fell to the floor with a loud yelp and thunderous clang, a snickering Ratchet still standing on the Rec-Room table where the Matrix Barer's pedes were still stuck to the roof with the industrial strength glue. "And what if it's a mech?"

"Then he'll be my special little mechling" Jazz cooed nuzzling Prowl's shoulder, reaching up to caress a doorwing as the black and white tactician pulled his carrying mate towards the Special Operations Barracks where they found Mirage loitering, waiting for Hound so that they could start their shift.

"Ah, Mirage" Prowl announced, the Noble mech giving a flinch as he suddenly found himself surrounded in a random hug from Jazz. "Please watch Jazz for a few joors, I need to help Ratchet carry Optimus to the Medbay again."

"But sir!" the blue and white mech protested as Jazz grinned at the his mate waving him off.

"Oh, go on Prowler, me and Mirage here will have tons of fun together while you're working hard!" the TIC waved dragging his subordinate away towards the training room, leaving Prowl to sigh in exasperation.

_**===Rec-Room===**_

"Remind me to never spark Jazz up again" Prowl grumbled as he helped shift the heavy weight of the Autobot Leader from the Rec-Room floor, who clearly wasn't helping in the slightest by leaning his dead weight on the Praxian and the now grumbling Ratchet.

"I'll gladly neuter you" Ratchet scowled his vents huffing exertion as they half dragged, half carried their pedeless Prime towards the Medbay, passing a hallway now full of bots awakening from their recharge cycles to attend to their day shifts to see the usual early morning sight, which had long lost its novelty.

"I'll personally give you to Megatron with a note of all the reasons why you should be his problem," Optimus snapped moodily "When I became Prime, no one said there would be a brooding carrier that has it out for me every time he feels the urge to do something mischievous!"

"You clearly weren't around when Ironhide got his arm ripped off" Ratchet and Prowl chorused as they finally towed the Matrix Barer into the relative safety of the Medbay where the resident engineer, Wheeljack was busily, sorting through a box of spare parts.

"Hi Ratchet! Can I borrow this doohicky and the servo?" the crackpot inventor asked lofting up a discarded spare servo and an odd looking tool that had brightly coloured buttons flashing on it.

"Fine," the red and white medic nodded, leaving Prowl to struggle under their leader's weight as he turned to threaten his best friend with his favourite wrench. "But only if I don't see you in here for the rest of the cycle."

"Done!" Wheeljack cheered, his helm fins flashing a cheerful yellow before bouncing out of the Medbay ignoring their Prime now sitting on the berth, his tactician and SIC, Prowl flopped on the floor in exhaustion, vent heaving as he huffed.

"Why do they have to make you Prime's so fragging heavy? Even Sentinel was a heavy slagger and he was a helm smaller than you!"

"Consider it punishment for impregnating your mate." Optimus snarked down at the elder Officer crossing his arms across his chest plates clearly pouting behind his mask. "I'm stuck in a base full of lunatics…"

All the bots in the Medbay jumped as Red Alert's voice shrieked through the base tannoy. "Ratchet! Jazz is having his sparkling!"

Prowl groaned still spread eagled on the floor, tired from carting the pedeless Prime to the Medbay as Ratchet rushed from the room to retrieve the TIC from wherever he had wandered off to and was currently in labour, "Give me five minutes!"

_**===Present Day===**_

"And that's how you were berthed," Prowl finished, eyeing his son who was staring at him in a mixture of disbelief, pity and embarrassment as Jazz cackled from his spot at the other side of the merged tables where an epic game of 'Spin the Enlarged Beer Bottle and Tell a Funny Story' was taking place with most of the members of the ARK. "Sorry Bluestreak, but Prime is really, really heavy. Why do you think we always get Skyfire to airlift him now, if he is injured?" With a smug look at the glowering Prime; Prowl span the giant bottle.


End file.
